In terms of entertainment value, taking stock of the gawkers wandering around outside TCF Bank Stadium might seem lame, especially compared with the action expected inside the place on autumnal Saturdays.
Still, the trickle of Minnesotans getting to know the new Golden Gophers football palace has been fascinating to Margaret Sughrue Carlson.
The about-to-retire CEO of the University of Minnesota Alumni Association has watched as people find their county's name on the big horseshoe's outer wall, then pose for a photo in front of it. Or pitch a coin into the fountain at Tribal Nations Plaza. Or pause in front of the wall dedicated to Minnesota's military veterans -- and maybe remember that there once was a stadium nearby named Memorial, in World War I veterans' honor.
To Carlson, those gestures are sweet affirmation of the rah-rah speech she made dozens of times in recent years, touting the virtues of a new on-campus football stadium. It would bring Minnesotans together, she said. It would make them proud.
More to today's point: It would strengthen their engagement with the University of Minnesota -- just when ol' Ski-U-Mah is going to really need it.
A few of those stadium admirers must have been struck by the incongruity it represents. Here's a stunner of a stadium, with a $288 million price tag, rising next to a row of pricey bioscience research buildings that will cost three times as much.
They're emblems of a proud and prosperous state, one that appears willing and able to spend big money on its biggest educational institution and on the promise of a new industry.
But those familiar with the state budget know a different story. The University of Minnesota and its public-sector counterpart, Minnesota State Colleges and Universities, each just took a $50 million cut in operating funds from what the Legislature authorized for 2010-11, courtesy of Gov. Tim Pawlenty's unallotment.